


Late Bloomer

by rachiebird



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 22:48:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachiebird/pseuds/rachiebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that he had yet to hit puberty made things significantly easier, even if there was always a certain sickness in his stomach whenever his classmates referred to him with 'san' instead of 'kun'. But that sickness would double whenever he thought of revealing his secret. So he continued to hide. </p><p>But the thing about late bloomers is that even if it's late, they always do bloom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late Bloomer

**Author's Note:**

> My fill for the "Silence is not Golden" Prompt on the Dangan Ronpa kink meme. Anon wanted something where a character stopped talking and the others noticed. So I made it sad.

Regardless of whether people looked at him as a boy or a girl, Chihiro Fujisaki definitely had the appearance of someone who was a late bloomer. And it was true. Chihiro was a late bloomer. He himself had mixed feelings about that fact. On the one hand, it would certainly have been much harder to blend in as a girl if he’d been someone taller with facial hair and broad shoulders. But on the other hand, blending in with the girls had never been Chihiro’s true goal. Every time somebody referred to him as a her or called him Fujisaki-san instead of Fujisaki-kun, he couldn’t help but feel slightly sick to his stomach. 

It was odd how he still hadn’t gotten used to that kind of thing. After all, it wasn’t exactly a new charade. He’d been keeping it since the beginning of middle school. Wearing the girl’s uniform, playing up how effeminate he was, never using the changing rooms when other people were present. But none of that changed the deep, ever-present terror in his stomach. The fact that he knew he couldn’t keep it up forever. He might be a late bloomer, but that didn’t mean that he would never bloom. 

The damning thing had happened somewhere around the six week mark of his time at Hope’s Peak Academy. Their homeroom teacher was taking attendance. It was early in the morning and since Chihiro had been working on a big programming project that night, he had stayed up later than usual. He wasn’t entirely awake when his name was called. He wasn’t really paying attention. Midway through his tentative “Here”, he realized that his voice had cracked, dropping to to the exact opposite of what one would consider feminine. Chihiro felt himself turn a bright crimson. He looked around frantically, trying to figure out, had anyone else had noticed, were they laughing at him, giving him funny looks, waiting for the teacher to leave so that they could push him over and get him back for deceiving him? 

He’d gotten incredibly lucky, Chihiro realizes as he scans the classroom. Incredibly, incredibly lucky. With the exception of Ishimaru, his other classmates were about as interested in the roll-call as they were an any other given aspect of school. That is to say, not very. He’s not going to get that lucky again, Chihiro realizes now. So for the rest of the class period, Chihiro is very, very careful. He doesn’t raise his hand, but at the same time, he is sure to look like he’s paying enough attention so that the teacher won’t simply call on him out of spite. For the next period, he does the same, except this time, during the attendance, he simply raises his hand. 

During lunch, Naegi approaches him, asking if he’s feeling alright. Chihiro just shrugs. He’s not taking any more risks. It’s not that he particularly distrusts Naegi and it’s not exactly that he feels Naegi would be intentionally cruel to him if he found out his secret. It’s just the general principle of the thing. The fact that if Naegi knew that he was, well, a he, it might change things. It might change things to an extent where neither of them knew how to interact around each other anymore. It might change things to the extent where it would be way to easy for Chihiro to let something slip, and then he’d be right back at the beginning and things would be just as bad as they were in elementary school except worse because now instead of being that girly boy, Chihiro would be that girly boy who crossdressed. 

And so he keeps quiet. After lunch, he slips back into his dorm room and buries himself in one of his projects. He feels bad for skipping class, but he really doesn’t feel up to dealing with things right now. When Ishimaru comes by, knocking on the door to see why he’d missed class, Chihiro pretends he isn’t there. After a little bit, Ishimaru finally gives up and leaves, but not before slipping a note regarding what classwork Chihiro had missed under the door. Chihiro reads it and feels really bad. 

Saturday and Sunday are spent mostly in his room, slinking around the hallways and ducking behind corners whenever it comes time to get some food. Most of his classmates come by at some point or another to check on him, but Chihiro just continues to pretend he isn’t there. 

All too soon, it’s Monday and Chihiro knows he can’t continue to do this. It’s not practical and it’s not fair to his classmates who are worrying about him or the school that is sponsoring him. 

That morning, before Chihiro goes to class, he stands in front of his bathroom mirror. He shapes his mouth around syllables and forms those into words and sentences until he’s used to the voice coming out of his mouth. He knows he’s not going to get second chances at making impressions on his peers, and that he can’t afford to mess anything up. When he finally feels like he is ready, Chihiro goes to his closet and pulls on his uniform. 

When he walked into the lunchroom, Chihiro is met by Ishimaru-kun who greets him with the usual gusto that everyone at school had come to expect from the hall monitor. “Ahh, it’s most excellent to see you’ve returned!” he exclaims. “You didn’t look too well on Friday. Were you feeling ill? I hope you aren’t straining yourself by being here!”

“Ill…?” Chihiro takes a deep breath before responding. He does feel badly about lying to his classmates. He really does. But, he just not strong enough to say anything right now. So, in his best falsetto, the one he’d practiced in front of the mirror this morning, “Yeah. I was feeling pretty sick the other day. I’m sorry for disappearing like that.” And then everything’s fine (except it’s not) and it’s like nothing ever happened (except it did).


End file.
